


curiosity almost killed the fox.

by yojin (MnM_PD)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "for now this will do. until then this will do.", Angst, Attempted Suicide, M/M, Not a pretty fic, alr a wip vent fic even before ch392 deteriorated my mental health, bad habits, could've gone the cute route if it wasn't a vent fic/chara study, non-committal relationships, sensual content, slightly a konoha character study but in a negative light bc i’m pessimistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24532576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MnM_PD/pseuds/yojin
Summary: konoha is curious and washio is there to spoil him.
Relationships: Konoha Akinori/Washio Tatsuki
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	curiosity almost killed the fox.

**Author's Note:**

> this was goddamn hard to write so i’m publishing this to induldge myself even after doubting if i should/can publish/continue writing this a million times bc of the concept and also bc i dont think this is my writing style ?? we’re here now tho (with _14k_ words wtaf) so, anyway.
> 
> ••• means explicit/detailed sensual content -•••-  
>  ** ~~///~~** means suicide content **~~\\\\\~~**  
>  _please_ skip those parts to avoid being uncomfortable/triggered.
> 
> this was really messy but existing/growing up/finding yourself is an absolute hell of a rollercoaster so :D whatever, i guess. (sorry for the shitty summary btw like am i unknowingly downplaying my shit w awful summaries? hfhfhf i'm sorry)

Konoha is naturally interested in a lot of things. He has a huge amount of curiosity in almost everything, so enamored with the unknown, greedy of basic wisdom and peculiar knowledge on whatever that relates to anything as a human being. It’s not powered by envy, neither hunger for attention to impress, nor a way to stroke his ego, he just is like that, as if he was programmed to be one; incessantly in need of new experiences and learning.

He knows how to do lots of things. He learned the piano when he was very young, then he picked up the guitar, got fascinated by the ukulele, moved on to violin, tried cello, and now drums. He played games on every console he can get his hands onto, whether it may be mind games, player versus computer, or player versus player; he can win against most people, and he can hold his ground when facing off strong contenders. In middle school he started to get scouted in being a member of the theater, was cast in plays, and has been asked to showcase his vocal prowess in productions for musicals or a band performances. For sports, he grew up dribbling a basketball, then tennis captured his attention, tested badminton, enjoyed swimming, found batting fun, and as of the moment, he landed himself into volleyball. He’s been at it for three years, almost as long as the time he allotted to training for tennis.

Presently, as a volleyball team member, he’s always been perceived as a stable and a reliable player. In his first and second year, he was the one to get subbed in for starter players who seemed to be giving an underwhelming or disastrous work inside the court. Surely, as he continued to show fruition in his consistent and focused training before spring high of his second year, he snagged a place as one of the six starter players, a position as an opposite hitter.

Everything was sailing smoothly. He was even given a title — _the jack of all trades_. It started off as a lighthearted teasing, sometimes even as a genuine praise and encouragement. He’s undeniably proud of it, that he’s decent, and sometimes even way more decent in all the aspects and techniques for the sport of volleying a ball. He can serve, receive, toss and spike with a skill above of an average person’s, and it’s something he honed due to his curiosity. He has this craving of wanting to be able to do something he wasn’t able to before, as if he’s in a constant competition with himself.

Hence the jack of all trades nickname. He can do lots of things — sports, music, games, academics, arts, but even if he was, he’s aware of the unspoken next phrase when people call upon him as that.

They leave out the _master of none_ bit.

Yes, he’s quite better than average, but he never seemed to be impressive enough to be a star in any concept he threw himself into. Not that it ever bothered him how others perceived him though. He’s simply taking action, not for anybody else, but only for himself. He’s just satiating his desire of learning and understanding something which was once unknown. Being a jack of all trades was purely for his own pleasure, and honestly, people has been seeing that idiom in a strange perspective as they do not know the full saying.

It actually went as _jack of all trades, master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one_.

Either meaning of the idiom doesn’t matter to him anyway.

* * *

One day, Konoha waltzed into his highschool with bleached hair, an impulsive decision which he asked no one to consent for. He saw a promo at the front door of a salon and seated himself on one of their leather seats, made himself comfortable as the employees asked him what he was there for. Apparently it was a decision that would drastically change his popularity and appeal to the ladies, because immediately after that day a schoolmate confessed to him and asked him to be in a relationship.

Of course, Konoha agreed. She was sweet, almost the same height as him, always has cold hands, an awkward laugh, an endearing smile, a hoarse voice, and he liked her. Quite a lot actually, that when she asked for a kiss from him, almost a month into their relationship, he instantly gave in.

Kissing felt nice. It was his first time. Her lips were smooth and plump, her mouth was warm, her movements were firm.

Kissing feels nice. Too nice that they repeated that a few more times and escalated from there with her leading their progress.

It wasn’t until Konoha thought they were about to take off more clothes the next time they make out that he saw her flirting with another boy from the soccer club. He was physically fit and very charming as he familiarly placed a hand at the small of her back, smirking at her with a lot of implications.

Konoha wasn’t stupid, and he knew they were past getting to know each other as he stayed there and watched. He saw the soccer player place a kiss on her cheek before scurrying away to class, and Konoha only shrugged.

Maybe the soccer boy’s body and aura was a lot sexier than his. Maybe his personality was more fun than his. Maybe he was nicer to kiss. Or, simply, maybe he was better as a man overall.

Whatever the reason was, he confronted her about it that same day after classes before training. They talked behind the gym, and when he asked about it, instead of admitting it, she gave him a slap, and shouted how dare he assume about her like that, then she walked away along with the words that ended their relationship.

Konoha was mad. A little broken. His head was buzzing with adrenaline and he wanted to run after her and shout back at her that he would have let her go if she just fucking asked, but he didn’t. He stood his ground and composed himself, dug his nails deep into his palms and gritted his teeth.

So this is how it feels to be cheated on. So this is what it feels like when someone humiliated you and then cut you deeper by throwing the broken pieces at your direction before leaving you alone.

It’s fucking exasperating. And that unnecessary slap does fucking sting.

* * *

Outside a convenience store, Konoha flicked a lighter on and lighted a stick of chemicals dangling between his lips as he waited for his friend to come out from buying them drinks. He inhaled the smoke into his lungs, took the cigarette off of his lips before taking another breath, held it in for some seconds before breathing out. Just a week ago, he thought smoking meant inhaling and then exhaling right after, but after some research, he finally learned how to properly do it.

The door opened and he heard a disapproving snort from his friend as he asked, “What is that?”

Konoha faced him, then he winked, “Washio, don’t you know what cigarettes are?”

Washio’s usual stoic face crinkled a little as he gazed at Konoha, not appreciating the sarcasm. He handed Konoha an energy drink and then proceeded to open his own bottle, drinking half of it.

“We’re athletes.” Washio said after a while like it explained a fuck ton as he gazed into the nothing in front of them.

Knowing the other’s personality, Konoha nodded as he ironically took another hit, unbothered, “I know.”

Despite disagreeing to Konoha’s bad habit, Washio didn’t make an attempt to stop him again and just waited for the blonde to burn through his cigarette.

* * *

Konoha was at Washio’s house with a promise of doing their homework before watching the latest hit animated movie. It was when they were almost finished that Konoha randomly popped a question.

“I’m curious.” He said, to which the taller immediately answered with, “You always are. What is it this time?”

Konoha chuckled, his hand clutching the pen pausing before he writes a sentence down, cautious not to put his current thoughts into his assignment for tomorrow, then he asked, “Have you had a girlfriend yet?”

“No.” Washio answered, always straightforward, like an open book, “Why?”

Konoha squirmed as he thought about why he asked, then he pouted, “Nothing. I heard a lot of girls fawning over you so I was wondering why you’ve never answered any of them yet.”

“Well, unlike you, I don’t dive into relationships just for the thrill of it.” Washio said, sighing as he laid his pen down on top of a textbook, finally finished.

Konoha finished up as well, pinning his elbow on top of the table and resting his chin on his palm, staring out of the room’s window and saw that the moon has appeared.

Dreamily, he grumbled, “I wonder what will make you say yes into a relationship, or what kind of thrill you’re looking for.”

Washio huffed, and Konoha’s eyes darted towards his face, seeing a grimace as he said, “Please don’t.” He laughed, “I don’t want to be one of your experiments.”

Konoha was going to say something but Washio’s mom called them out for dinner.

* * *

Konoha has been wondering about what can trigger Washio to finally get into a relationship, therefore he arranged a mixer. It was hard to convince the tall and indifferent man to agree, but he succeeded with his persistence.

The day came and not an hour into the date, Konoha was already hitting it off with one of the girls, but Washio wasn’t doing so well. It made Konoha frown. He invited the girls Washio said was his type physically, so is it their personalities that doesn’t set him off?

Somebody suddenly proposed a game of spin the bottle, like they were kids, but the alcohol was a great stupidity booster and therefore, majority of the people agreed.

There were lots of nonsensical stuff at first, then it transitioned into something more sensual as the bottle kept on spinning. At some point, it landed on Washio, and Konoha took the chance to dare him into kissing someone inside the room. Washio only raised a brow, but when one of the girls volunteered, for once, Konoha saw something mischievous in the way Washio’s eyes glinted in the dim lights.

Washio kissed her, and Konoha watched. He had been waiting to see Washio in action, but ironically, he didn’t feel happy about what he realized.

He eyed his friend disappointedly because it’s obvious Washio had kissed before, and he never told Konoha.

* * *

“Be honest with me.” Konoha said as he smoked outside after sending off the other guests, his legs bent and spread widely in front of his chest with his back against the wall, “You’ve kissed someone before, haven’t you?”

Washio’s facial features didn’t change as he said, “Yeah.”

Konoha took a deep breath to compose himself, utterly annoyed at how boring Washio spoke about a lot of things that should be exciting.

“How many?” Konoha asked, resorting to interviewing the usually silent guy instead of pointing a finger at him and saying he feels betrayed when he never really asked much anyway.

“Two people.” Washio said, “Three if we add the one from earlier.”

Konoha got interested when he heard two, then there was a minimal tone of accusation when he asked, “You said you never had a girlfriend.”

“I didn’t lie.” He swiftly retorted, looking at Konoha with a strong gaze as if to prove it, “She wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“And the second one wasn’t your girlfriend too?” Konoha asked, an unbelieving smirk on his lips as he thought about Washio simply kissing someone even if they weren’t in a relationship. It was funny because Konoha has kissed more than three people but most of them at least was his girlfriend at some point.

“She was the second one.” Washio said, shrugging as he leaned on a wall after checking if it’s not dirtied with a drunkard’s piss or barf, “My first one was with a boy.”

Konoha felt the smoke he just inhaled get stuck inside his throat, and he goes into a coughing fit, almost accidentally burning a hole through his pants when his cigarette fell from his fingertips. Thankfully, he caught it without hurting himself.

“ _Fuck_.” Konoha breathed as he dusted off the cigarette’s ashes that fell on his pants. After tidying up, he took a lungful of fresh air and looked up again at Washio who was at least two meters away from him, making it easier to tilt his head upwards and see his face, which showed nothing of shame, shyness or smugness. He looked like he just truly stated a normal fact about himself, and Konoha saluted to that attitude.

“How did it feel like?” Konoha said, not knowing what he’s asking for in particular.

Washio seemed to not understand it as well as he hummed, “Hmmm. How did _what_ feel like?”

“Kissing—“ _a boy_ , Konoha wanted to say, but he stopped himself and brought the cigarette stick up his lips instead, inhaling a lot longer than he does.

He heard Washio chuckle, a deep vibrating sound, and it captured _all_ of Konoha’s attention.

“Nice.” He said, nodding. Then his dark colored eyes focused down on Konoha’s as he added, “Kissing feels nice.”

* * *

Practice ended and Konoha was assigned to lock the gym and the club room together with Komi, but the libero later on remembered he had an errand to do for his dad to which he then spontaneously tapped Washio’s shoulder with an apology and an _I’m counting on you_. Washio had no choice.

They were changing out of their sweaty training clothes when Konoha asked Washio how his first kiss went. It was like any other conversation they had, and they talked about it normally.

Konoha learned that when he was 9, a beetle they were playing around with stung him. A boy, who always seemed to have a blush, kissed his neck where he got stung to make it feel better. Washio wanted to pay back the boy’s kindness so then he kissed him on the lips. When a teacher who came to see what chaos was ensuing saw them and asked him about it, Washio only answered that he’d seen his parents do it all the time. Only now did he realize that his teacher wasn’t asking about him kissing another boy but what went down with the beetle.

Konoha teased him that that doesn’t count as a first kiss, but he soon admitted he was just jealous that Washio’s first kiss was sweet and pure — nobody should have that kind of bragging rights. Washio laughed at him and informed him that when he talks about that incident with others, he doesn’t mention that it was a boy he kissed, and it’s strange that he felt comfortable enough to tell Konoha about it truthfully.

Konoha thought story time was over after they locked their lockers and smoothed out their uniforms, but Washio continued, “We kissed again when we started middle school, then we kept kissing for a year until his family moved away and we lost contact since then.”

Washio’s tone sounded somber, and the deep rumble of his voice was smoothed out by the wistful smile on his lips, “I was really sad when I lost him so I tried to see if kissing a girl would suffice.”

Konoha took a swift peak at Washio’s face before asking, “Was it?”

Washio huffed amusedly while shaking his head, looking down at his feet to fix his shoes, “Nah. It was okay but... I guess I just really liked his kisses more.”

With silence hanging in the air between them and not knowing what to do about it, Konoha decided to wear his socks slowly while he contemplated about what he can say. He has a lot of questions, and every single one of them needs an immediate answer, but maybe he can push most of it away for a while and just ask this one thing he’s _really_ curious to say.

His tongue felt thicker than it normally was and his throat was dry. Swallowing the saliva that pooled inside his mouth wasn’t helping, but he really wanted to ask this so while he tied his shoes with slightly shaky fingers, he forced himself to blurt it out.

“ _Would you kiss me?_ ”

Konoha did his best to avoid meeting Washio’s gaze. Heck, he even turned his whole body away from the taller boy so he wouldn’t see any gesture Washio made or understand his body language. There was a tightening in his throat while the silence expanded again, and he gulped down his pride and curiosity, ready to take back what he said, but he heard the wooden floorboards creak behind him and he just _knew_ Washio was walking towards him.

He felt giddy, nervous, and there was even a thread of terror in his blood vessels that moment, but he turned on his heels and faced Washio who was approaching him. He still didn’t look up to meet his eyes which bored so heavily on his skin it made his knees feel weak.

Konoha was busy trying to maneuver the speedy train of thoughts inside his head, grating and skidding noisily on top of the fissures of his skull, but when he felt gentle fingertips catch his left wrist, everything slowed down enough that he can comprehend Washio asking him in a careful whisper, “ _Do you want me to_?”

Washio’s fingers were icy on his pulse, and Konoha didn’t find it unpleasant, no, not at all. It brought him back to reality and then he was thinking of the reasons as to why his hands would be cold — was it the cold weather, did he naturally have cold hands, or was he anxious to kiss Konoha as well?

Konoha stared at the fingertips that barely even held him in place. It was purposefully loose so he can shrug it away easily if he wanted the touch gone. His eyes then trailed Washio’s forearm, to his bicep, to his chest and finally to his face, locking their gazes together. Konoha saw anticipation in his dilated pupils, and he felt his heart beating inside his neck, but as the silence prolonged, fright slowly manifested in the other’s irises, and Konoha hastily spoke to make it go away.

“I do.” He said, a bit too loudly that their small bubble almost popped. Washio blinked at him, looking as if he still wasn’t convinced, so Konoha took a deep breath and repeated his question, “Would you—“ he stuttered and futilely hid it with a cough behind a fist. Then he straightened his back and looked up at Washio, determined even with a trembling voice as he said, “Would you kiss me, Washio?”

Konoha‘s heart skipped a beat and made a tumble when Washio chuckled, his perfect row of beautiful white teeth gleaming as he smiled down at Konoha, leaning closer as he grumbled, “Honestly, I’ve been wishing for you to ask.”

Konoha felt the last bit of Washio’s sentence on his own lips, then his mouth parted as he goes through tons of mixed feelings.

Warm. That was his first thought, then he felt confused, excited, and scared all at the same time, but Washio was slow and comforting when he took Konoha’s lower lip in his mouth. His grip on Konoha’s wrist tightened, and his other hand slithered inside Konoha’s coat to caress his waist on top of his dress shirt. Konoha found himself easing into his small touches, and his eyes fluttered close, giving up his logic and simply letting his body move the way it wanted to. His hands ended up tangled in Washio’s hair, clutching at it and pulling him closer to deepen their kiss.

Washio obliged, pressing their chests against each other as he wrapped an arm around Konoha’s back, inserting a tongue into Konoha’s mouth which the blonde gladly welcomed.

Konoha had experienced lots of kisses already. Some were awkward and unsynchronized, some where steady and slow, some were needy and hungry. This one falls into steady and slow, but it also feels too warm, a little bit needy, quite passionate despite their tempo, and _god_ , it’s turning Konoha’s brain into a muddled mess of mush and wrangled thoughts of wanting to kiss Washio longer.

His chapped lips slotted against his perfectly, his warm tongue carefully smoothed over his own, his teeth subtly bit him, and it felt like his logic was all being consumed but he really doesn’t mind.

Unfortunately, they’re human beings who need oxygen to continue kissing, so Konoha had to pull away and push Washio’s chest with both of his palms to take a huge intake of air, not only for his lungs but also for his state of mind. Konoha stared at Washio’s lips which were shiny and parted, still only inches away from his. The taller looked like he was also having trouble breathing, his spiked hair a little messy, but Konoha still thought of him as attractive. Very pretty, very handsome, and Konoha wondered just how long he’s been ignoring that that fact made him feel things.

Washio was still holding him close, and he can feel their breaths falling in sync as they came down from their small high. Once Konoha thought he can speak normally, he asked, because he always has questions to ask.

“How did it feel?”

Konoha listened to their deep breaths first for a moment before Washio connected their foreheads together, his eyes closed, “Nice.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, “It felt nice.”

Konoha closed his eyes too and nodded, curling his hands into a fist on top of Washio’s chest.

“How about you?” Washio said, and even if Konoha wanted to answer, he was a little dazed to hold a conversation right now, but Washio continued, “How did kissing a boy feel like?”

Konoha’s head wasn’t coherent, but he knew what he wanted say and he knew what he felt so it was easy to admit it.

“Nice.” He whispered, “Kissing you felt nice.”

There was a tender pause in the air before Konoha felt Washio’s hand grasp his shirt tightly, then he heard him sigh in relief, “That’s good to hear.”

•••

After that incident, they never really talked about it, but they never stopped doing it. So far they’ve done it again in the club room, gym, empty classrooms and hallways. It’s not always an open mouthed kiss; sometimes Konoha would surprise Washio with a sneaky peck on the lips while they change for their indoor shoes, and sometimes Washio would take his hand and kiss his knuckles. There wasn’t anything that changed much between them except for the added acts of them kissing each other.

One night after volunteering to wrap up the gym and the club room, the two of them went further with the kissing. They were still in their sweaty clothes, exhausted from training, and yet there were a lot of bites and tons of touching. They also left deeply colored hickeys on the base of each other’s neck despite not having marked one another for a week since they first kissed.

Konoha was the first to get aroused, and in all honesty, he did not know what to do with that fact, or what he wants to do with it, or what he can let Washio do with it.

He wanted to keep kissing Washio even if he didn’t want Washio to know, but inevitably, the other did notice which made them momentarily stop. Washio then asked him to set down boundaries for now, because as long as they haven’t thoroughly talked about whatever it is that’s happening between them, he wouldn’t want to put his hands on Konoha and cross his borders. They both know Konoha doesn’t say his discomfort out loud because his curiosity wouldn’t care if somebody went over the line anyway, but Washio looked determined to set said boundaries between the two of them.

Konoha agreed then, swallowing against his throat which felt like it was narrowing. He didn’t really care how far Washio would have pulled him into, but it’s a nice sensation that he’s being asked where his comfort lies for once.

“Okay, then just...” He stuttered, then he took a deep breath, “Just hands for now.”

Washio looked iffy to come into his space again, so Konoha took the initiative to close the gap between them and take Washio’s huge and cold hands in his before leading them to lay flat on his back. He gingerly carded his fingers through Washio’s hair again, his favorite thing to do recently because Washio’s hair is soft amongst the hair product that kept it spiked upwards, then he pulled his head down for a kiss.

Konoha could still feel Washio doubting the consent he gave so he bit him hard which almost made the other’s lip bleed, and before he can even complain, Konoha was sucking on where he bit him, pushing himself even closer to Washio’s chest. He attempted to bump his lower hips onto Washio’s thigh, which he thought would make the taller jerk awkwardly, but he was met halfway instead and he pulled away to moan softly.

“Okay.” Washio said when they parted, placing two sturdy hands at the bottom of Konoha’s shoulder blades, “Okay.”

Konoha wasn’t sure what Washio was affirming to or what he was convincing Konoha or himself as _okay_ , but he decided not to ask him about it because Washio’s fingertips were already shyly treading the hem of his shirt, on its way to touch Konoha’s bare stomach. His breathing was ragged, and Konoha wanted to help relieve it so he took off his shirt himself and laid it on the floor, leading the taller to sit on the ground to straddle his lap.

Once settled down, Konoha dominated their kiss. Washio’s head was angled upwards and Konoha held his jaw in place so he can tongue his mouth the way he wanted to even if he knew it put some painful pressure on the other’s neck. Washio felt helpless underneath him, and it only urged Konoha more so he tugged harder on his hair and lightly swung his hips down. The groan Washio made went straight to his head and down to the other, and the coldness of Washio’s grip on his hips seared his naked skin.

His head was seriously getting weirder and his thoughts were turning blurrier in every second, so like a beg for fresh air he breathed out Washio’s name, and it felt _tasty_ on his lips, especially when Washio ate up his oxygen right after with a knowing hum, sending ripples of goosebumps across his chest. Washio even spread it further down the dip of his hips when Washio hooked a finger on the waistband of his shorts, tugging it down.

Washio’s hands were large. He’d knew it way back then already, had seen him hold a volleyball with a single hand, had felt it pat him on the back as a teammate, and even had it hold his waist in place as he loomed over him and kissed him stupid. It was nothing like his hand or his exes, and it made a shiver run up his spine which then tingled as it crawled outwards through his nerves.

“Washi—“ He bit his lip to hush himself while his toes curled in pleasure when he felt a thumb pass by his slit. He can feel Washio’s attention on his face and he hoped his reddened face wasn’t horrible to stare at.

“What about you?” Konoha said when he found his voice again, controlling his breathing through his mouth.

Washio’s licked his lips nervously, and his mouth hanged open for a moment before he asked, “Can I?”

Konoha almost rolled his eyes, “ _Of course_. I can’t be the only one who gets something out of this, can I?”

“I’m okay with just—“

“ _Washio_.” Konoha growled, and he caged Washio’s neck between his arms and hugged him close, giving him a quick kiss, “Come on, it’s okay.”

Konoha saw him chew on the insides of his cheek before he nodded, and he was ready to offer a hand so he can work Washio off as well but the taller had a different idea.

“Is this fine?” Washio asked softly, as if he’s already about to get rejected, and though Konoha’s mind was going on an overdrive, saying no wasn’t one of his thoughts.

He knew almost close to nothing when it comes to doing explicit things with the same sex, but he knew what turns him on and what doesn’t. What this image of them both wrapped inside Washio’s huge hand did was to turn him on further, so he knew his answer.

“Yeah.” He exhaled airily, “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Konoha didn’t want to talk anymore so he connected their lips once again when Washio started to move his hand. Their kiss turned sloppy and disoriented but it gave Konoha something else to do than simply unfurl blissfully through Washio’s ministrations. It was when the pace of Washio’s grip quickened that they totally gave up on kissing with their mouths, and Washio buried his face into Konoha’s neck, his exhales steaming against his collarbones.

He found his release when Washio nipped on his throat, and he came with a badly muffled groan against the bend of his arms. He was feeling lightheaded, but he clearly heard Washio say his name dearly on top of the skin of his shoulders after his own release.

They were sweatier after it and their bodies were high in temperature. The atmosphere felt humid despite the cold weather while the clubroom was basked in darkness with just the slightest glow of the moon peering inside through the window’s blinds. The floorboards underneath his knees and feet were chilly.

Konoha should be high in ecstasy at that moment, and for a short while, he truly was, until something at the back of his mind crept into his consciousness and tugged at him back to reality. After some deep breaths and after the thumping in his ears faded away, Konoha felt something cold at the base of his spine.

Konoha felt filthy, but it didn’t concern him at all

-•••-

The next day came and there was not a single feeling of regret in Konoha’s mind, but it would seem like Washio has his based on how he acted when they’re around each other.

Their conversations were normal, and Washio can hold his gaze without flinching away but the usual skinship they shared even before their current arrangement was nonexistent. The first thing he noticed that was unusual was when Washio subtly changed the way he sat as Konoha settled beside him so their thighs won’t have to be against each other. Konoha tried to reach out to him physically throughout the day, and Washio actually let him, but there was a detached look on his face and voice whenever Konoha did.

The fact that Komi invited the third years over to his house — because his parents won’t be home until tomorrow, Saturday, and he’s scared being _home alone_ since he’s not _Kevin_ — didn’t help because Washio tried his best to come up with an excuse just so he won’t have to come, but Bokuto was able to convince the guy and even if Konoha was on Bokuto’s annoyingly persistent side for this instance, he still slightly pitied Washio. It was for the better though since he was able to confront him about it when they were tasked to buy snacks for movie night because Sarukui (and Konoha, but they didn’t catch him) already got through half of their stash just by sitting at the kitchen counter.

They were on the walk back Komi’s house when he opened it up, “You’re distancing yourself from me, aren’t you?”

“Hm?” Washio hummed, then he looked away, “Ah. Yes.”

Konoha pouted. He kind of hates this part of Washio wherein he’d ask him a question and he’d truthfully answer to it nonchalantly. It’s a good thing that he’s honest, but this kind of truthfulness is irksome in its own way.

“Why?” Konoha asked, wanting to cross his arms so he’d look intimidating if he weren’t just holding two bags full of chips and cup ramen.

“I’m giving you an easy way out.” Washio answered, shifting the single but heavier bag of drinks from one hand to another.

“Easy way out of?” Konoha raised a brow, because there’s nothing he wanted to get out of in their set up at the moment. He didn’t feel uncomfortable about anything that happened last night, so what does Washio think he needs an easy way out of?

“Me.” Washio said, and Konoha had to contort his face to comprehend what it meant. It was so simple, but also way too complicated to be _just that simple_.

“Ha?” Konoha somehow understood, but the implications of it still confused him a lot.

Washio noticed it and was kind enough to offer a deeper explanation after a tired and reluctant sigh, “You’re curious about a lot of things, right?”

Konoha nodded as he stared at his face, looking for any other clue on his poker face except for what he says verbally.

There was none.

The taller shrugged, “Let’s say I’m curious about you instead.”

_Hmm_. Konoha gave himself a moment to digest that fact, then he scoffed, amused, “So you’re interested in me, basically?”

Washio gazed at him sideways, and he might have seen a smirk on his lips when he answered, “Yeah. I am.”

“Well, I’m not taking it.” Konoha said, bratty even to his own ears but he doesn’t mind. Washio’s eyes looked at him questioningly but he only winked at him teasingly, held all the bags in one hand and pulled his phone out of his pocket to message Komi that they’re their near their house. He got an immediate reply telling them to wait at the back porch instead.

“I’m not taking your offer of an easy way out.” Konoha said after looking up from his phone and inserting it back into his pocket, gesturing towards the back of the house to signal Washio where they’re going, “I’m interested in you too.”

They were silent as they walked to the back door and placed their purchases down on the floor, stretching out the kinks in their muscles from carrying it.

Konoha had his arms over his head when he felt Washio’s familiar hand on his waist, his warmth near his back, and the vibration of his voice close to the shell of his ear, “You sure about this?”

Konoha twirled cheerily to contradict Washio’s stiffness, then he laid his already outstretched arms on the sides of Washio’s neck, pulling him close with a chuckle, “Are you?”

Washio’s forehead tweaked slightly before his lips curled into an amused smile as well, leaning close enough for their noses to touch as he whispered, “Hopefully.” Then he kissed Konoha’s nose.

They parted in haste when they heard the door blast open, and Konoha felt his heart jump into his throat, threatening to crack out of his ribs in anxiety that they might have been seen by someone.

Komi walked out of the door and closed it with a serious face before he crossed his arms in front of them, standing dignified, “Seriously, even at somebody else’s house?”

Konoha was shaking, and he wanted to explain but Washio was more stable so he was the first to say something, “Komi, it’s not—“

“Wait. Hold up.” Komi said, his tone borderline venomous along with a strong palm asking for silence against Washio, “Listen, I kiss boys too, that’s not the problem here, but the fact that my bestfriend never told me he does too.”

Konoha blinked, “What—“ He blinked again, “Wait, huh?”

“Should I ironically be _straight_ about this?” Komi exclaimed slightly dramatically, and when the two of them stayed unimpressed, he blew raspberries and said, “I’m gay, _duh_.”

“It’s also the first time you’re telling me this.” Konoha responded monotonously, like he’s running on an autopilot because there’s a lot of matters he needs to process therefore he runs it through his brain systematically.

“I mean—“ Komi stuttered, then he grunts with a blush on his cheeks, “I was meaning to tell you at least, and I didn’t hide around your house sneaking kisses with another boy when we’re supposed to be having _bros_ night.”

“We weren’t sneaking kisses—“

“Then what was that, huh, Akinori?”

“We were solving something—“

“With kisses?”

“God, you’re _obnoxious_.” Konoha breathed out and brought a palm to his face. Komi, on the other hand, looked like he was having fun torturing him with this kind of confrontation.

“I have so many questions but one thing I need to immediately know is how Washio get kisses when I haven’t had any?” Komi said, and it was obvious it was a simple jest in the way he spoke, but Konoha and Washio shared a look for whatever it was they thought the same of, and the taller moved his shoulders as if he’s signaling he doesn’t mind whatever it was that Konoha’s thinking.

The thought was comical, but he also really doesn’t mind whatever he was thinking so he just said it, “Do you want a kiss then?”

Komi mouthed _what_ but without a sound and it stayed open for some seconds as his gaze fluttered from Konoha to Washio and back again, “Are you fucking around with me right now?”

Konoha and Washio simultaneously shook their heads no, and Komi looked amazed and appalled at the same time, but he straightened his back and took a deep breath, “Let’s save that for later when the others are asleep. Right now, I want to watch that 2012 movie and eat salty chips.”

Some teasing ensued right after while they got back inside the house, but it stopped with a secretive joint laughter when they arrived at Komi’s room where the other guys were huddled up in front of the television, ready to watch a movie. Two hours went by with Konoha and Washio seated behind everyone else, their feet sometimes touching and an occasional sharp squint from Komi which seemed to warn them to not try anything funny on his bed.

Later into the night, they fell asleep one by one, and Konoha almost drifted off to sleep as well until his phone ringed with a message notification from Komi saying he’s got three cans of beer downstairs if they’re still up for some underage drinking and midnight gossiping. Konoha gently tapped Washio and pointed downstairs, which the other didn’t even question as he wordlessly climbed out of bed, followed Konoha out of the room and into the living room where Komi was eating a tub of strawberry ice cream.

They conversed for a while about other things while gulping down their beer, and Komi seemed to sense that him and Washio haven’t seriously talked about their relationship yet so once he started digging into their relationship, his questions were more directed towards Konoha, like how long he’s known he‘s into guys, because Konoha had his fair share of girlfriends. It was a huge plot twist for Komi to catch his playboy bestfriend kissing another guy at the back of his house, who he thought was _straight as fuck_.

After a few sips of beer and some internal monologues, Konoha admitted that gender never really mattered to him. He wasn’t technically aware of it right from the start per se, but when Washio mentioned kissing another boy, he didn’t think strange of it and suddenly understood that such things didn’t matter to him. He kissed before because he wanted to, and he kissed Washio as well because he wanted to. Simple as that.

“So you kiss people out of a whim?” Komi teased, taking a spoonful of strawberry ice cream into his mouth.

“Not as bad as you make it sound, but I guess I do.” Konoha said, taking a swig of his beer.

“So if I dare you to kiss me, you’re gonna do it — just because.” Komi said, taking another spoonful of his ice cream he outright mentioned earlier that he wouldn’t share with the two of them.

“You’re all talk, _babe_. Come here and show me how you kiss boys already.” Konoha mocked, wiggling his eyebrows towards Komi with his arms open, ready to welcome the libero into his embrace.

Komi’s facial expression turned cheeky and confident as he got up from his seat and trotted his way towards Konoha’s chest, filled with intention conveyed by his wide grin, “Don’t get weird on me after this since you asked for it, you sly fox.”

Konoha wanted to answer and say he wouldn’t get weird about it, but Komi already sat on top of his lap and devoured his mouth, his hands on Konoha’s cheeks guiding it in an angle to welcome Komi’s tongue easily. He didn’t mean to do it, but while Komi kissed him tasting like strawberries and cream, something light and bubbly came up in his ribs which made him giggle into their kiss.

“What—“ Komi pulled away, exaggeratedly showing disappointment on his face as if Konoha had offended him, “Are you laughing because I’m a bad kisser?”

Konoha covered his snickers behind his palm and shook his head no, his shoulders still quivering from mirth, “Nah. It’s not that. I just...” Konoha calmed himself down and placed his palms back on Komi’s waist, “I think you kiss _adorably_.”

Komi, despite wanting to disprove the statement, _cutely_ pouted down at Konoha and whimpered, “Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Yeah.” Konoha nodded encouragingly, “Yeah, you should. It’s definitely a compliment.”

Then suddenly, a thought popped in his mind, and it showed through his facial expressions because Washio spoke beside them, “What are you smirking about?”

Konoha wavered for a second, but the thrill seeking side of him won over his radical one hence he suggested, “What if the both of you kiss as well?”

“Akinori—“

“Sure.” Washio said, interrupting Komi, “I’ve been wanting to know if he tastes like strawberries.”

Konoha was surprised, but he also expected such an answer from Washio, so he bursted into bright laughter while Komi stayed still on top of his lap, looking like he’s having a hard time processing Washio’s personality, “Is he, like, for real? Is he like this all the time?”

“Uh huh. He’s straight to the point and honest most of the time he opens his mouth.”

Komi snorted as if it was a dumb idea, but he crawled over to Washio’s lap anyway and competitively stared at him, which Washio voluntarily lost so he can already kiss Komi.

Konoha watched the smaller boy’s eyes go wide in bafflement before he clung onto Washio’s broad shoulders, his spine arching outwards with the way the other leaned closer to him. Konoha observed, and he took notice of how Washio’s eyelids fluttered open and close to look at the person he’s kissing before he gets to a different angle to better the kiss. Konoha saw tongues, and he heard Komi groan, then as he got lost in watching the show, Washio caught his gaze and made his breath hitch. His eyes focused on Washio’s smirk, and he attentively stared as he sucked on Komi’s lower lip.

“Okay—“ Komi pulled away forcibly, his hands flailing in between him and Washio, “Woah, woah, woah, woah.”

Komi exhaled loudly as he craned his neck to look at Konoha, “If _that’s_ who you’ve been kissing for the past damn weeks then maybe I could forgive you for saying I kiss adorably because, _fuck_ , this man’s not playing.”

Konoha snapped out of his own headspace and looked away from Washio’s tongue that darted out as if still tasting strawberry ice cream on his lips, chuckling as he said, “Yeah. You guys were hot. Would there be a continuation?”

“Nah, _babe_. I’m eating my goddamn ice cream.” Komi said with a laugh as he climbed off of Washio, walking back to his ice cream. He was about to walk off towards the kitchen but he stopped midway and pointed a purposefully offending finger at the two of them, “No hormonal shit on mom’s couch, okay? The floor’s fucking wide enough.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not doing any of that shit.” Konoha said and waved him off so he can peacefully eat his ice cream alone at the kitchen.

When he said that, he really meant it. They weren’t planning on doing anything together that night, but their kisses got deeper, the touches went rougher, the hormones got higher and Washio ended up kneeling between Konoha’s thighs.

Komi and his mom didn’t have to know about that bit though.

* * *

They were studying at Washio’s house in a pure attempt to actually educate themselves when Konoha blurted out a thought he has been suppressing for a while.

“How does anal feel like?”

There was an awkward tension in the air and Washio froze while reading something on his textbook before stiffly turning his body towards Konoha, “I don’t think that would be a question for the essay part of our exam.”

Konoha hid his heated face behind his hands, and curled up shyly into himself. With a weak voice he lamely laughed, “I’m sorry, please ignore me.”

Washio obeyed swiftly and focused back on his textbook, leaving Konoha feel his shame. He tried to read the literature in front of him but Konoha’s thoughts drifted away again. It would seem his mind flew too far away because Washio had to shake him back to reality, repeating his name over and over.

“Yeah?” Konoha asked, crash landing back into his skull.

Washio sighed with a blank face before he tiredly looked at Konoha and said, “Okay. Hit me.”

Konoha raised a brow, and Washio raised one back, not letting the blonde play dumb about it, so he admitted defeat and pursed his lips.

He can feel his cheeks warming when he looked away and asked, “Have you tried it yet?”

“No.” Washio answered too quickly that Konoha wasn’t sure what to ask next, but Washio did it for him, “Do you want to test it on me?”

Konoha’s face heated up even harder, terrified of the fact that Washio can read him so well, and he had to bury his face into his palms again, “Why is this so embarrassing?”

He heard the scratch of charcoal on paper, and he peaked out of his hands to see what Washio was doing. The taller had his eyes on his textbook again, taking notes on his notebook with a pencil, then he said, “My sister would be here tomorrow but my parents would be out. Do your homework tonight and maybe I’d let you do it.”

Konoha skirted closer to their study table again, finally having the motivation to use his comprehension just to feel anything else than his shame, but Washio liked playing with him and his dignity.

“You _do_ understand what I mean about homework, right?”

“Yeah, I _get_ you. I’ll do some research, goddamnit.”

•••

Konoha went home that night and looked up references for whatever it is he’s using Washio as a guinea pig for, but no matter how physically prepared he was with the lube and fingers he brought along with him when he came over Washio’s house the next day, he was mentally having a breaking down.

Washio just got out of the shower, wearing nothing for a top and literally only sweatpants for his bottoms when he opened the door for Konoha. He smelled of pomegranate and mint, which apparently was his body wash and shampoo respectively.

“My sister won’t bother us so you can relax.” Washio said as they entered his room, still drying his damp hair and fringe that fell just above his thick eyebrows using the towel draped over his shoulders.

“Okay.” Konoha meekly uttered, and it wasn’t like him to be this nervous. He grew confident and unbothered by these things over the past few experiences, but this was uncharted territory. The two of them haven’t experienced anything like this yet so it’s very nerve wracking.

“Should I lie on the bed?” Washio asked, urging them forward, and Konoha nodded with sureness in his movements, finally finding some sort of courage.

“On your stomach though, because I’d massage you first so you’d feel at ease.” Konoha said, and Washio snorted which he frowned at, “What? I’m good with massages.”

“You’re the one who needs a massage to chill though.” Washio teased while he laid down on his bed, face down on his pillow, to which Konoha responded with a mirthless laugh.

“I’m feeling chill enough, thank you for your concern.” Konoha said, looking away as he brought out some oil for the massage and the lube he bought at a convenience store while wearing a mask and a cap from earlier, bringing it to the bed with him as he settled his thighs at the sides of Washio’s firm bum.

“You’ve got a nice ass.” Konoha found himself easily complimenting him, and Washio shrugged boastfully. He has the right to be proud of it, but Konoha still scrunched his nose at the audacity Washio had to bask in the praise, “You’re a pompous twat.”

“If you’re jealous about it, then don’t cheat on the squats.” Washio huffed, and Konoha agreed with a shy snicker, because he does cheat on their routinely thigh exercises at training.

Their bantering slowly faded when Konoha started to press his thumbs onto the stiffness of Washio’s broad shoulders, dragging it downwards to his toned back muscles, and drawing circles as the base of his spine, his other fingers spread outwards to frame his slimmed waist. Washio started to hum and groan appreciatively of his skillful massage, and he found himself gaining pride with every satisfied moan Washio offered up to him.

“You’re good at this.” Washio whispered, a little breathy, and Konoha pressed his weight harder on his hands, eliciting a loud moan from Washio which alerted Konoha because his sister might have heard that, but Washio didn’t even care.

“That was good.” He said, so Konoha did it again albeit hesitantly, and this time Washio was decent enough to muffle it through his nose this time.

“Can you maybe tone down your voice a bit?” Konoha nagged, but Washio only grinned below him mockingly as he provoked him, “Scared of getting caught?”

“Not exactly, but I wouldn’t want to be banned from your house due to just this because I really like your mom’s onigiri. We haven’t even actually started with the explicit part yet.” Konoha blabbered.

“I’m already turned on though.” Washio said, his eyes closed and his facial muscles relaxed while Konoha tensed up on top of him.

“You are?”

“You’ve been warming my ass while you kneaded on my back for minutes now. How can I not be?”

Konoha worried on his bottom lip for a moment, wondering what step he should take next, but again, Washio decided for him, “I think I’m ready.”

“Hm?” Konoha snapped his gaze upwards and looked at Washio’s face, but he hid it into the cross of his forearms by now and all Konoha saw was the tips of his ears reddening.

Konoha had to swallow, then he cautiously hooked his thumbs on Washio’s sweatpants to tug it downwards, exposing his bottom bare. He saw Washio’s hands curl into his pillows and Konoha had to pat his waist to calm him back down.

There was that feeling of his heart beating in his neck again as he popped open the bottle of lube, and the sound made Washio’s muscles twitch subtly in surprise, so he caressed his skin more and said in a soft voice, “I’ll be careful.”

Washio’s only response was a curt nod, then Konoha asked him to kneel over the bed for easier access, and he obeyed, still avoiding his gaze.

Konoha warmed up the slick liquid he poured over his fingers, then he ran his palm up and down over Washio’s thighs to pet him, “Are you sure about this?”

Washio nodded, but it wasn’t enough confirmation for Konoha so he persisted, “Are you _sure_ about this?”

Washio finally craned his neck to look behind Konoha and said, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”

The sight made Konoha’s insides twirl into a loop. Washio’s forehead was sweaty and some of his damp, dark hair was sticking on it, his cheeks flushed, his lips shiny from Washio’s nervous tic of licking his lips. Konoha felt breathless because honestly, how did he end up in this position of rendering such a beautiful, strong man to this state of being weak just by his fingertips?

“Konoha.” He quickly said in an exhale, and Konoha got back to his senses as he prepared himself as well.

“Sorry.” He said, flustered, “I’m putting it in.” He warned a bit awkwardly, then after a beat he placed the tip of his middle finger on Washio’s entrance. It wasn’t until he pushed through the first inch of the tight ring of muscle that he felt Washio shiver.

“Are we still good?” Konoha asked, unmoving, and when Washio verbally told him yes, he continued, which went smoothly up until his knuckles. Konoha released the breath he didn’t know he was holding, then he made an experimental pump, asking, “How does it feel?”

Washio scoffed amusedly, “Strange.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Konoha asked, ready to pull his finger out if Washio ordered him to.

“Nah. It hasn’t been unpleasantly uncomfortable so far.” Washio said, his tone laced with humor.

“But it _has been_ uncomfortable?”

Washio groaned disapprovingly, “Maybe you should stop speaking and start poking around to at least make it pleasant then.”

Konoha pursed his lips and nodded as Washio glared at him playfully, then he did what he was asked to do and pulled his fingers inside out slowly to lather his walls with lubrication. There was a lot of communication and patience that went down before Konoha successfully inserted a second finger, stretching him out slowly to avoid hurting him.

“Konoha.” Washio called again, and it was more breathier than the first one, “It’s not uncomfortable anymore.”

“Okay.” Konoha said, and he internally repeated it— _okay_ , before curling his hands upwards in a _come hither_ motion like he saw in the articles he read, which apparently wasn’t a lie because Washio’s forearms almost gave out beneath him when he choked on air as Konoha pressed onto a differently textured part of his insides.

“Are we good?” Konoha asked again, finally remembering that communication was the key for this to actually work well and pleasurably.

“What does it look like?” Washio answered him sarcastically but it faded into a blissful sigh as he cursed, “Shit, _Konoha_.”

The way he said him name made Konoha’s senses tingle, and there was a pleasant pressure on his chest that was slithering its way outwards to his whole body, making it hard for him to breathe evenly. So with unsteady intakes of oxygen, he pushed deeper into that spot and massaged around it.

“ _Fuck_.” Washio cursed again when his thighs shook, his tone quivering, “That’s so weird.”

“Should I keep going?” Konoha asked speedily, because as much as he is enjoying this image of Washio, he can back off and respect his comfort zone like he did to him before as well.

“Yea— _shit_.” Washio muffled a prolonged moan into his forearm when Konoha wiggled his fingertips against his pleasure spot, and Konoha’s hearing perked up, “Keep— keep doing that. It feels good.”

Konoha unconsciously chewed the insides of his cheek while all of his consciousness got sucked in by the curve of Washio’s back, the curl of his toes, the repression of his groans, the hitch of his breathing, and the way he gasped Konoha’s name as he looked back to meet Konoha’s gaze.

“Do you—“ Konoha faltered, a lustful haze blurring his thoughts, “Do you want me to touch you on the other side as well?”

Washio had the strength to laugh, “What do you want to see?” He grunted and bit his lip, forcing the next words through gritted teeth, “What are you curious about?”

Konoha blinked tons of times before he muttered in a low volume, “Seeing you release just from this.”

The chuckle Washio made was so stimulatingly hot and gorgeous that it pulled a ton of strings inside his head, his ribs, his abdomen in all the right ways. Then Washio challenged him with that handsome vibrato in his voice, a taunting smirk on his pretty red lips, ”Do a good job with your fingers then.”

Washio’s mattress was barely able to muffle the groan he made after Konoha took his prompt seriously, and there were no regrets on both sides because it was everything they wanted to come for.

•••

After that soon came a second, and since Konoha had experience with the opposite sex, Washio volunteered to be topped for their first time. Though Konoha had been inside someone before, in reality he was still actually clueless so even if he did have more confidence in the preparation part of it, he still got cold feet when finally doing the deed. It was great that Washio communicated with him well to coax him and boost his confidence, but their first time basically just became a session of figuring out how male anatomies can work together and not simply two bodies rutting against each other for pleasure.

Their second time was a whole lot better, and they had actual fun in that time around. Washio felt he can submit better that time since Konoha had found his groove at last.

They did it a for a third time with Konoha still as the top and they fell into a good synchronicity, which led to a lot of bliss and ecstasy, the kind that made Konoha choke on air as he released deep inside Washio, and the other’s huge hand tightly pulling at his hair painfully as he shut his eyes close and moaned Konoha’s name.

After testing out some positions to see what’s the easiest to handle for a beginner, Washio finally agreed to do it to Konoha too. At first, Washio was so hesitant about everything because he has _zero_ experience with penetrating somebody. He fretted over the simplest things Konoha did and the tiniest sounds he made while he did the prep. It was cute, but once Washio was settled inside him and started to _snap_ his hips, it was a _totally_ different story. Konoha had almost put his hands on every single inch of Washio’s skin and he knew how toned Washio’s body is, so when those strong core muscles and meaty thighs got to work, Konoha _absolutely_ lost his shit, uncaring of the indecent and nasty sounds that scorched his throat.

When they came down from their high and that their heartbeats were slowing down again, Konoha groaned before chortling, which concerned Washio a lot if he did a bad performance but Konoha shut him up immediately, linking his arms across Washio’s nape and holding him in place on top of him, “Are you sure that was your first time because you just thoroughly fucked my brain out of my skull.”

Washio looked shocked as he looked down on Konoha, then the tension that built up on his back dissipated with a smile, “Since when did you have a brain?”

“Hey, that’s not good pillow talk.”

-•••-

“I think I lost one of my bestfriends today.” Konoha opened up one time as they played Mario Kart at his house.

“Who?” Washio responded with concern, but the red shell he sent towards Konoha was pretty insensitive.

“Stop sabotaging me or I’ll end _ours_.” Konoha warned but there was no real snark to it, so he continued, “It was Haruki. He saw me flirting with some girls and got mad at me.”

“Komi? Why?” Washio said, and Konoha saw his magic item manifest as a blue shell, which he cursed at because he’s had only gotten back his rightful first place and Washio was targeting him yet again.

“He nagged at me for playing around too much, so I told him I have your consent and that it was in our agreement but he got angrier.” Konoha groaned, “Why are you so lucky with items?”

“It’s my good karma.” Washio said, and Konoha laughed at that because it sounded dumb but also made sense as it fitted him perfectly.

“But...” Konoha started, catching up to Washio’s cart again, “What do you think?”

“Hm?” Washio tried to block him, but Konoha dodged, “ _Tsk_. Well, I don’t think he’d stay mad at you forever, so don’t worry too much.”

“How about our set up? Should I stop—“

“I don’t expect you to be a tamed fox all of a sudden so don’t worry about it.” Washio interrupted, “I had options, but I specifically chose you so I’m not really asking for you to change.”

Konoha held his breath as his cart tied with Washio, seconds before the finish line, then he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Washio nastily scoffed when he slipped on the banana peel he released himself from the previous lap, making him lose the race at the last three seconds, and when he laid down the controller on the floor with a clattering sound, he said with a light tone, “Hopefully.”

* * *

Washio only witnessed Bokuto stomping angrily out of the gym, Shirofuku and Suzumeda, their female managers, right behind his tail while one of them asked Bokuto to get back inside and make up with Konoha.

Konoha quickly scurried away to the opposite side of where Bokuto went and away from Washio, wanting nothing but to avoid being seen in such a pathetic state by his teammates and to escape Washio’s concerned gaze. He thought no one dared to follow him, but of course Washio’s long legs were able to catch up to him before he reached the comfort of their clubroom and locking himself inside.

He was forcefully turned around by a strong grip on his shoulders, and Washio looked like he was going to ask something until his eyes fell on Konoha’s busted lips. He’s aware that his lower lip was injured because he has a clear taste of blood in his mouth, and as he assumed, it worried Washio more.

“What—“ Washio looked speechless, and Konoha wasn’t in the right mood to deal with this.

“Are you— Are you okay?” Washio asked, knowing that asking about why, what, and how Konoha got punched on the face would be futile. The blonde appreciated the thought, because he really didn’t want to explain or recount the incident caused by his irresponsible and imprudent pettiness.

“I’m fine as wine. I was just really curious about how hard Bokuto can throw a punch, and _fuck_ , that man’s biceps aren’t only good at smashing a fucking ball, I guess.” Konoha cheerily said, then his eyebrows perked up, a smile on his lips as he realized, “Oh! Bokuto finally got mad at me for the first time since we were freshmen! That’s an achievement. We never physically fought, or rather we never did fight. Ever.”

Konoha chuckled, genuinely laughing at his absurd situation and yet Washio was looking down at him with his brows furrowed and his eyes tight, looking like he wanted to say a lot of things, so Konoha raised a hand to his nape and urged him to bend down, “Hey.”

Washio hummed and stepped closer to his frame despite them being out in a place where they might possibly get caught, so with a delighted grin, he asked, “Kiss me?”

“Why?” Washio said despite leaning so close he was practically speaking against the uninjured corner of Konoha’s lip, because they both knew Konoha wasn’t requesting Washio to do it but requiring him to.

“Because I feel shitty.” He said, and Washio quickly obeyed.

The cut on his lips still stung like a little shit, but the metallic taste that coated their tongues was peculiarly encouraging, which made Konoha to want to just keep kissing and maybe cuddle somewhere warm until he built enough courage to apologize to Bokuto, but Washio pulled away from the open mouthed kiss to lightly peck the surrounding, swollen skin around Konoha’s lips. It weakened Konoha’s thought coherency; all he could think of was the lucid desire to cling onto Washio and feel his kind lips bask him in delicate kisses that guided him into serenity. Washio really kissed him better.

“That’s going to bruise, so let’s go to the clinic, hm?” Washio muttered, still kissing him tenderly sweet and it’s a different kind of being kissed stupid. Konoha’s dissatisfied frown didn’t work well enough to convince Washio that he doesn’t want to because the taller grunted a dismissive _mm-mm_ , detaching himself off of Konoha already to lead them back to their campus.

When they arrived at the clinic, Bokuto was seated on one of the beds with an ice pack on top of his right hand’s knuckles, his facial expression totally sour and contorted with tons of emotions.

Washio poked Konoha’s ribs with an elbow to push him forward, and when Bokuto stopped glaring at the tiles to look up at the sudden movement, Konoha forced a smile, “Hey, I- uh.” Konoha ran a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry.”

Bokuto silently stared at him for some seconds which felt like a full hot minute, then out of the blue he stood up and wrapped Konoha in his muscular arms so tight it felt like he mashed Konoha’s ribs together.

“If you’re planning to act like that again in the future, I’m punching you again, but least put up a fight next time.” Bokuto said, his tone sulking despite saying an actual threat.

Konoha nervously chuckled, genuinely humored, then he hugged him back as he found bravery in his arms again, “Okay, I will.”

“Ugh.” Bokuto grunted as he tightened his embrace even more around Konoha, “Try not to be an asshole again because fighting and punching a bestfriend feels fucking awful.”

“Pff.” Konoha snorted, “You threw a damn good punch though.”

Bokuto unconsciously swung them side to side rhythmically, and Konoha found it comforting. Bokuto then uttered, “Did I?”

“Yeah. At least now I’m assured you can put up a good fight.” Konoha laughed, patting Bokuto’s back. Then there was silence again.

“Hey, man.” Bokuto whispered, then he hid his face into the crook of Konoha’s neck, and even if the position he was in felt awkward for his spine, he eased into it and hummed, “Yeah?”

“I love you.” Bokuto mumbled, seriously and deeply sincere, which elicited a loud puff of laughter from Konoha, feeling a cozy warmth of fluttering inside his guts, and when it all calmed down into a gentle simmer, he reached over Bokuto’s head to smooth back his hair.

“Yeah, yeah.” Konoha sighed, “I love you, too, Kou.”

Bokuto still didn’t let go of him, and despite not seeing Washio, their female managers, and the clinic’s doctor, Konoha knew they were giggling fondly at the scene. He didn’t feel any shame about it though.

* * *

It was the summer after graduation when Washio came over his house with a tub of ice cream because he was too lazy to go out and meet anyone. He was too busy wondering about his highschool life and his future in the university.

If he was honest about it, he thought he could have at least won nationals in his last year as a Fukurodani volleyball team member, because he had that much faith and belief in his team members. In his past competitions, he was mostly alone and had nothing to motivate him to aim for victory. He only got into sports for the fun of it, not for the competitive side of it. He did win a tennis competition once, but that was the extent of it because he enjoyed tennis a lot back then.

This time he had the mindset with the hunger to win, since he got his teammates with him, and yet he fell short to help them achieve it. Nobody blamed him for their loss, but it was the closest thing to a regret he can allow himself to have because claiming victory wasn’t just his dream that time, it was the others’ as well, and he still wasn’t able to fulfill that goal with them despite having the best team he could have asked for.

Though in the end, none of it matters anymore because the moment has passed already. He can’t keep blaming his excuses of how he didn’t practice more, or how he should have built his stamina up more, or how he shouldn’t have smoked, or even some petty shit like maybe he shouldn’t have cheated on the squat exercises.

It was done. It ended already.

“Pharmacy?” Washio asked, breaking the silence as he looked through Konoha’s paper works for university.

Konoha snapped out of his daze where he lied on his bed and tried to think of what the context of it meant, then he shrugged to wake himself up, “Yeah. I told you before already.”

“I know, but I still can’t comprehend why. It’s like mathematics.” Washio grumbled as he rested his cheek on his palm, leaning his elbow on Konoha’s desk.

Konoha frowned at the comparison, not because he hates math but because he can see that the similarities are comically stupid, “Why? Is it because you need to know what adds, subtracts, multiplies and the divisions of drugs?”

“You get me, huh? It’s like math, isn’t it? But with words.” Washio said, a lazy smile on his lips as he continued to stare at Konoha’s papers, “You also have to recognize what’s a syntax error at first sight.”

Konoha bubbled into laughter, and Washio’s eyes flicked towards him as he turned to his side and hugged a pillow, “You’re funny sometimes.”

“Is that flirting?” He said, putting down the papers and organizing them back to where he got it.

Konoha snorted as if to ridicule the thought, but he smiled suggestively, “If you want it to be.”

“Okay, tell me more then.” Washio said, leaning back to Konoha’s leather desk chair.

Konoha tried not to think of Washio in a suit and tie sitting on a leather seat as a boss in some sort of office, then he spoke, “You’re witty and it’s sexy.”

He didn’t really have to continue because Washio was already walking towards the bed, and he opened his arms to meet him. Washio planted a hand near his head as he leaned down, “And?”

“You’re very handsome and pretty, can’t you just please kiss me?” Konoha almost begged with the sweetest eyes he could muster, and Washio chuckled above him before giving him what he asked for.

“Thanks.” Konoha grinned after they parted, “Now, cuddle with me.”

* * *

In college, Konoha and Washio decided to rent an apartment together since their universities were near each other and the cost of living would be less if they split it between them.

Living together went by smoothly. They knew and complimented each other well so none of the household chores were an issue for them. They were both responsible and mature when dealing about things that it almost felt like they’ve been living together for a long time because that’s how much they perfectly fit together.

At that age, Konoha’s curiosity still wasn’t satiated. It was even amplified. He found the community in his university as liberated and accepting of others which helped him act more freely. One person he knew was married and divorced, one was a single father, another was an alcoholic, and some were living a normal life. It was like a unity of what the society might deem as fuck ups and Konoha felt like he belonged.

When he went out clubbing or getting high, no questions would be asked about whatever stupid action he made that night once the morning comes. Whatever happened within the night, whatever the night had seen him do, it stays within the night.

Konoha had this kind of freedom that at some point of being drunk with it, he found himself lost and searching of where he needs to draw the line of his morals. He’s done some things other people wouldn’t attempt, he’s made some wrong choices that might hurt some people, and he’s taken opportunities to do something unaccepted by most. He has also been fooling around into hotels or people’s beds just to come back home to Washio smelling like the cheap motel’s or somebody else’s shampoo and soap.

They still weren’t exclusive, and Washio’s simple consequences for this behavior of his was to have safe sex plus a constant visit to the hospital for a checkup. Konoha has complied so far and Washio’s warmth was always there to welcome him home when he trots back inside their apartment, no matter what he did before coming home.

It never mattered if he just had a threesome, or if he made out with most of the people at the party he went to, or if he got involved in bed with a married person, or if he skinny dipped at the beach with a stranger who he went with just because he had a cool motorbike. It never mattered that he came home littered with bite marks, hickeys, and scratches. Washio never asked about them.

Washio has been good to him. He never judged Konoha. He never degraded Konoha. He never told Konoha he’s disgusting.

Washio has been _too_ good to him. He doesn’t tell him to stop. He doesn’t scold him. He doesn’t tell him he’s doing something wrong.

~~Washio was good to him and continued to be good to him, so Konoha wondered if he would have left~~ ~~W~~ ~~ashio if he was anything less than that?~~

* * *

Once in a while, Washio accompanied Konoha in letting loose by drinking alcohol. Whenever they did, the two of them would be inseparable, but Konoha had to go to the restroom for a while and when he came back, Washio was excitedly chatting with someone Konoha didn’t recognize.

When he was near earshot, he saw something twinkle in Washio’s eyes as he introduced the new guy as his childhood bestfriend, and Konoha instantly understood that this guy right there was his first kiss.

Washio’s childhood bestfriend assumed they were together, but Konoha laughed and shook his head no before sending a discreet wink towards Washio, assuring him that there wasn’t much going on between him and Washio. Konoha noticed how much the guy adored Washio all grown up — tall, tanned, fit, and beautiful. Konoha can share sometimes for the sake of quenching his curiosity, and Washio didn’t seem to disagree on the matter because it looked like he was intrigued this time as well, probably even more so than Konoha.

Konoha went home alone early that night, and he expected Washio to arrive tomorrow rather than before midnight but he was back soon immediately. He thought things between them went sour but he saw the vibrant fresh red marks on Washio’s back and it was enough evidence to say otherwise.

“So.” Konoha started as Washio crawled on top of him to lie down on the bed, and Konoha met him with his fingers tracing on the nail marks on his shoulders, down to the forming hickeys on his chest, “Do you still like his kisses a lot?”

“Yeah.” Washio answered and took Konoha’s lips into his mouth, breathing deeply before pulling away just slightly to add, “But I want your kisses more.”

Konoha chuckled as Washio dove back into kissing him, harder this time, pressing their bodies against each other as if he was touch starved and has not just come home from dancing with somebody else some minutes earlier, and it gave Konoha an oddly messed up satisfaction deep inside him as he tugged on his hair and easily unraveled him into a pretty wreckage.

“That’s good to hear.”

* * *

Konoha wasn’t sure when the voices started to appear, or if they just manifested all at once that day, or if he’s been able to ignore them by pushing them at the back of his mind with more bad decisions and ugly habits but now they’ve come for him at full force, ready to break his ribs into pieces and knock all the oxygen out of his lungs.

Maybe he deserves it. He deserves to hear these voices that are nagging at him, screaming at him, pointing at him, blaming him for most of the things in his life.

The funny thing is that his life isn’t technically in tatters, because although he couldn’t go to his classes all the time, he still passes his classes even with mediocre grades. His family loves him and still fully supports him financially. He has his friends that welcome him with open arms despite the mess that he is. He has Washio who never failed to be there for him whether it may be for the good or the ugly.

He’s living comfortably, and it seemed like he’s breezing through life easily, but apparently, that was all on the surface.

~~He hates his course. Should he shift to a different one? His grades aren’t impressive. Is he actually an idiot? Should he have gone down the sport route? But he wasted three whole years to volleyball instead of honing his talent for tennis and now he’s become mediocre in both. His parents only accept him for now because they don’t have a single clue as to what he’s doing with his life. How would they react if they knew he wasn’t the normal kind of son they asked for? How would they look at him as someone who was raised to believe in a religion and yet has failed to follow its teachings? Are the friends he has for the better so he can truly be himself or for the worse because he isn’t shackled down by the norms of society? Has he been cruel to Washio? Should he have been better for him? But he never said anything so he must have been fine with it, right?~~

~~Why did no one stop him? Why did people let him get into this pit of misery and simply watched him struggle in it? Why did nobody warn him about the possible consequences of his choices? Why was he permitted to ask questions and be allowed to get the answers to it?~~

There was a scream that ripped through Konoha’s brain, but it wasn’t verbal. It was just inside his head, loud and echoing, ringing, tingling and still vibrating deep inside his skull.

~~Why did he let himself fall deep into this? Why did he permit himself to become a mess? Why did he follow his insatiable curiosity into this void of nothingness?~~

Why ~~did he do this to himself~~?

**~~///~~**

Konoha could feel the angry but futile thumping of his veins inside his left wrist as he was rushed into the hospital. At the ambulance ride, he was forced to wear an oxygen mask while the first responder did her best to clean his wound before bandaging it tightly to help slow down the bleeding, but Konoha had bled enough of his demons, of his thoughts, of his consciousness before he was found and it felt _good_.

He was still awake, and strangely his mind was hyperactively clear. His eyes darted around his surroundings in an avidly sick curiosity, like a person who admitted to being a witch despite not being one just to be burned at the stake for the sake of knowing what the view was like in such perspective.

The short trip from the ambulance to the emergency room was a fun ride. There was a strange happiness in the sound of wheels skidding musically on the floor, and he joyfully sang in his head that _I’m slipping away, I’m slipping away, I’m slipping away_. His vision had started to get swallowed by the black spots at the corners of his perspective; his thoughts were floating around like clouds, dense and light and fluffy; his lips were tugged at the corners to imitate a smile, halfway there to produce a proud and euphoric laugh if he just had enough physical strength to do so.

Consciousness was there, but as his life continued to pour out of him, it now felt like a ghost inside his cranial cavity. His thinking became rapid, like a drunken maniac, but they were not uncomfortable, especially as they were getting softer and softer like a gentle jesting whisper which he responds with an enlivened smile. His hand felt like a phantom limb, then his legs felt like it was high up in the skies instead. His body felt free of humanity, drained of everything, sucked away from world’s existence. The lights were blinking, the faces were flashing by, the words were flowing around in spirals, and it felt _good_.

Something was slipping out of him and it felt _good_. Not until it was clasped back into him and suddenly the ecstasy he found in the incoming and comforting darkness was bidding him an even more stinging goodbye.

_Fuck_. Was his last thought before he went off to sleep which he strongly dreaded because he knew he’d wake up from it anyway.

**~~\\\\\~~**

It was easy to pretend nothing happened after he physically recovered. It was winter time, so wearing clothes that covered his arms 24/7 wasn’t anything that would raise people’s suspicions but it became challenging to cover up once the weather got warm. Of course, he had a huge scar after it which was also hard to hide, but most people didn’t notice, much to his surprise and benefit.

He went to school just fine, he saw his parents like normal, he was accompanied by his friends even if he was a total wreck like they always do, and he was wrapped in warmth by Washio which never failed to comfort him as it used to.

Most things still sucked. Nothing really changed. He’s sure he would do something selfish like that again. It’s almost like he knows he’s fated to have a next time, and someday one next time would finally be his last time, but also maybe someday he‘d stop aching for a next time, maybe someday he’d breathe easier, maybe someday he’d learn to love better, maybe someday he’d be just fine. Nobody knows for sure, and if he’s honest, right now it doesn’t feel like it’s going to get better.

He doesn’t know yet, because today isn’t that day yet, and it nags at him everytime he wakes up beside Washio curled up beside him, caging him in tenderness, enveloping him in constant love and care.

“Why?” Konoha asked him one morning, pertaining to nothing in particular and everything at once.

Washio hummed, then he tilted his head to kiss Konoha’s hair, “You already know why.”

Konoha shook his head on top of his chest, “No, I don’t.”

He felt Washio’s chuckle vibrate from inside and then outwards to his cheek pressed on the other’s chest, “Because I love you, that’s why.”

Konoha chewed on his lower lip, sucking on the metallic taste of it, “I know.”

Washio amusedly huffed once again at the contradiction, then he cuddled closer to Konoha, and the familiar hands on his skin felt grounding. Konoha shut his eyes, his breathing tight, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say it back.” Washio whispered, massaging circles against the base of his spine which made Konoha’s limbs feel weak.

“But I do.” Konoha breathed, closing his eyes, “I really do.”

Washio brought a finger through his scalp and inhaled deeply, as if he’s breathing Konoha in. Then his exhale tickled Konoha’s neck, and electricity crawled all over his skin as Washio said, “I know.”

Konoha’s not exactly sure what Washio said he knows, but he’s glad he does. If Washio can stay with him, or if he’d stay with Washio long enough to know what that is, then this would be enough until then.

Most things still hurt. Living still ached. He still doesn’t know what’s wrong, why it’s wrong, and how to make it right, but one day it would all stop. One day he’d close his eyes to rest — peacefully or eternally — and be alright, but until then, this would do.

_Until then._

**Author's Note:**

>  **long ass a/n !!** but uh. i alr had this idea before hq chapter 392 came out,,,, but then i read 392 and idk if my concept for this became messier and uglier or lighter and less angry bc i got to vent in [three other fics](https://archiveofourown.org/tags/chapter%20392%20deteriorated%20my%20mental%20health%20tbh) alr. but either way, konoha doesn’t deserve this. he aint deserve to have a stan like me. god. i have this konoha keychain on my phone (along w yaku & futakuchi) so i was apologizing to it while i was writing this bc goddamn i love konoha and i want him to be happy. i need to build some happy konoha headcanons tbfh bc they’re all fucking sad. 392 made it wORSE.
> 
> also, i was _**losing**_ my braincells over the intim8 parts bc HECK i havent tried writing an hq fic explicitly like this since _2016_ (which //btw// i _Deleted_ ) :D i mean i can write explicit shit but it’s always With Tons Of Angst or smth. so with this i just malfunctioned. i truly was losing my mind thinking about how i can write those parts without the usual terminologies used and LAUGHED at myself for slithering my way around such terms lmFAO. noticed how i never used the word dick hfhfh. but the kisses? _man_ , those were all //very// self indulgent.
> 
> btw, i don’t have a goal for this. this doesn’t aim for like uh understanding or smth. when i tagged this as “not a pretty fic” i fucking meant it and if u think it’s ugly, that’s good bc it really is. this honestly was just prompted by my hc that konoha is Curious of everything wc led him to being a Jack Of All Trades kinda man but it spiralled out of control. i just wanted to throw these out there: 1) curiosity is a bitch, 2) how far can u be curious about things?, 3) should curious people be free to satisfy their curiosity or should they be chained down w societal norms?, 4) doing things you might not regret for the moment might come back to bite u in the ass someday, so 5) recognizing that you regret doing smth might be healthier than pretending u dont regret shit. anyway, this is the messiest fic i have bc .... it’s pretty raw, i guess.
> 
> that ending is also left vaguely/awkwardly bc i’d rather let someone else think up what “until then” means/would be bc im sick and tired of thinking about it. i have enough unresolved Konoha Questions on my plate alr. [ also, i Noticed how in my oifuta fic i used “for now this will do. until then this will do” and in my konoaka fic i used “for now, all is well” and then this one i used “until then, this would do” hAHA i really like the not-knowing-the-future kinda concept huh. [“for now this will do. until then this will do”](https://archiveofourown.org/tags/%22for%20now%20this%20will%20do*d*%20until%20then%20this%20will%20do*d*%22) has now also kinda became my motto (wc i turned into an ao3 tag instead of a series bc i dont think it makes sense as a series). ]
> 
> if u read this fic and this a/n, why are u still here jk but thank you and i’m sorry i had to make u go through that bullshit. i love you. love yourself and go waste ur time on smth better than this !!! but maybe valid8 me in the comments b4 u go or smth ?? or not bc i shouldn't be valid8ed anyway !! bye !! MWA
> 
> lastly !! the world/humanity is really blatantly baring its ugliness this 2020 so stay strong !! the world will get better !! someday we’ll win !! though some of us might lose as an individual before witnessing a general victory,, but until then !! let’s keep fucking fighting !!


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